In The Aftermath
by IAmTheBadWolf
Summary: "I could have saved people, James, I could have done something. You'd not understand. You weren't there." Set shortly after the sinking of the Titanic. Oneshot. Rated 'T' to be on the safe side.


**A/N:** Just a little something that I wrote the beginning of a month or more ago, then decided to add to late one evening (actually, it was around two or three in the morning). I love Helen and James as a pairing/ship, and I think they have lots of backstory that unfortunately we'll never be able to learn about. I love Teslen to death, but I think out of them all, James was always the best one for her. :3

So this is just something kinda fluffy, though I did my best to stay true to their characters. Takes place shortly after the Titanic has gone down and Helen has returned to London. Enjoy!

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She was silent the entire carriage ride home, and for hours after as they sat in the parlour. He'd made her a cup of tea, though she'd not so much as glanced at it since he'd set it before her. She was somewhere else entirely, gaze fixated at an undetermined point outside. Rain struck the window pane aggressively, but she took no notice.

"Helen," he spoke finally, his voice sounding foreign amid the silence.

The woman in question turned her head to face him, her eyes glazed over with tears.

"How many?" Her throat ached from disuse and she swallowed roughly.

"They're still counting," James responded gently.

"All of those people..." Helen's eyes drifted once more to the window as a tear broke free and rolled down her cheek.

"You can't dwell on that. It was a horrible tragedy, yes–"

"I could have saved people, James, I could have _done_ something. You'd not understand. You weren't there," she interrupted softly. The blonde's usual fire was gone; It unnerved James to the core.

"No... I wasn't." He approached her slowly and pulled her into a strong embrace. "I was stuck here, petrified."

She wrapped her arms around him in kind, but frowned at his words. "Why?"

He didn't answer for a long while, and when he finally did, his voice was quiet and shaking. "I thought I'd lost you."

She wanted to tell him not to be so foolish as all that, to berate him for his selfishness, but the only words to leave her lips were, "You didn't."

James held her tighter still, burying his face in her golden hair. It didn't smell of her usual perfume; rather, it smelled musky from her time at sea and all the days she had gone without the privilege of bathing. Of course it mattered very little to him, but he felt Helen gently pushing at his chest. With great reluctance, James released her, though his hands still lingered about her shoulders.

"I must look and smell a fright," she remarked, the bare minimum of a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. Regardless, the ghost of a smile was enough to appease her dear Watson, whose beaming grin was nearly infectious.

"You could be dressed in rags and smell of the sewers and it would bother me none," he affirmed, and he meant it, truly.

"I know... Nothing I ever do would perturb you in the slightest, darling."

To hear her familiar endearment once more after what felt like an eternity sent a pleasant jolt through him.

"Oh... I can think of a few -minor- things..."

It was not lost on her that he was attempting to lighten the mood and return her to her usual self. Though perhaps premature, she appreciated it. So far it seemed to be working.

Gaping, she queried incredulously, "Such as?!"

"Such as... the way you leave books all scattered about in the library–"

"Because I intend to return to them at a later time."

"Then why is it you never do?"

He had her there; the corner of her mouth upturned a fraction. "Very well. What else?"

"Your workbench is almost always in chaos–"

"_Organized_ chaos!" Helen protested.

"Yet you never fail to ask where I've hidden your things, though they remain scattered across the table, just as you'd left them."

"Well it's never bothered you before."

"No," James chuckled, "indeed it hasn't." He paused a moment, then launched back in with full force, "When you abandon half-full cups of tea in the sitting room–"

"I do not–!"

"–leave your hat and gloves on my desk after an outing–"

"James–!"

"When you _insist_ on going away on dangerous journeys and leave me behind to wonder if I'll ever see you again!" He had advanced several steps at the last, and presently stood looming over her with a haunted expression.

"James," Helen repeated, softer this time.

It was all the encouragement he needed; he took her in his arms and kissed her soundly, a gesture which was quickly reciprocated. When they parted, she looked up to find tears glistening in her friend's eyes, and she wasted no time in reaching up and brushing her thumbs over his cheeks.

"Allow me to bathe. Then we shall have tea in front of the fire."

James smiled and nodded his consent, his arms dropping to his sides. She kissed him once more, then left with half the spunk she usually had in her step. He watched her retreating form and felt his heart beginning already to ache from her absence, but he went to prepare the tea.

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**A/N:** I tried. :P Leave a review if you feel so inclined, or just message me to talk Sanctuary! :)


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